I admit, I thought the Cubs would be a bit much for the Mets.
I’ve never been so happy to be so wrong.
I thought the Mets were just a bit too young. Their holy trinity of young arms are pitching way past established maxims and prior maximums. After David Wright, they don’t have the requisite graybeards to temper the youthful glee and gaffes that so often hamstring a neophyte franchise.
Maybe the Mets are just young and dumb enough to forget how big these games are. Maybe they’re just atypically poised. Maybe it all accidentally coalesced this August, and they became the perfect cocktail of age and wage and wisdom.